Trust
by Field
Summary: In the Cross Culture Series. There's still a price on Archer's head and the Ferengi intend to collect. Trip, Travis, and T'Mir mount a rescue mission, and Malcolm falls into the hands of the Orions.
1. Part I

I don't know why the paragraphs aren't separated in the last one -- let me know if it doesn't work again. Anyhow, enjoy this one, I know I did.

Cough, cough on a secondary note, this was originally published as 'Take Down', which it isn't... 'Take Down' will be the next one, but apparently, I'm inexplicably confused. )

* * *

"How are the modifications coming, Trip?" Archer asked alte in the morning. 

"Not so bad, actually, Cap'n." he answered, "I had to make a few last-minute modifications to keep from blowin' us sky-high, but everythin's really comin' together, I'd say. We should have it online in about two hours, to be generous."

"Good. Let me know if you need any more resources. I'll be on the Bridge."

"Alright." Trip waved the Captain through the doors without a second look, completely engrossed in his work.

x x x

On the Bridge, suddenly Ensign Mayweather called out, "There's a ship, just decloaked off our port bow, intercept course!"

There was barely a split second to react before the ship rocked uncontrollably from a huge concussive force. Then it was gone.

T'Pol immediately jumped to action. "Mr. Reed, status report."

"I'm not reading any damage, excepting shielding has gone offline. I think they just brushed shields with us."

"Casualty report?"

"A few bumps and bruises – nothing critical."

T'Pol nodded.

"Commander." Hoshi called from across the room, "I'm only reading 82 lifesigns aboard – we're missing someone."

"Where's Captain Archer?" Travis noted, "He usually makes it up here by now."

T'Pol sighed – maybe they weren't so lucky after all. "T'Pol to Captain Archer." She paused, "Captain, please respond."

Opening Theme

"Trust"

"What do you mean you lost the entire Captain?" T'Mir shouted in Malcolm's stout face.

He looked away for a minute. "And you've lost only part of a Captain before?" he spat dryly, "That's not the point. We need to find him before I'll continue on with this mission of yours."

"How do you even know he's alive."

"We have to be sure."

"This mission is important for Earth, for the quadrant. Do you really want to put all that at risk for Archer?"

"The Captain is important for this crew."

"T'Mir studied him for a full minute, an annoying curiosity and confidence in her eyes. Then finally, she said, "I"m glad you realize it, Lieutenant. I would not ask this crew to carry on without its captain.

"In the years following the disaster at Mett, some computer files were recovered. They published all the personal logs they could find in a comprehensive journal. Each and every one painted the Captain in only the best light, many people claimed he was a hero owed a life's debt. I wanted to be sure I could say the same of you."

"Of me."

"I trust you've already begun trailing their warp signature."

"Yes." Malcolm nodded, "It wasn't too difficult to discern."

"Let me know if you find anything new, I may be able to be of some help."

"Thank you." he nodded curtly.

T'Mir left the Bridge quietly and efficiently.

"I am loyal to the Captain!" he called in the last second to deafly closing doors. Malcolm laid his hands on the table and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Travis laughed from his console on the far side of the Bridge. "You're a braver man than I am, Lieutenant."

Malcolm nodded, coming back to his station, "I don't know why she scares me so much. She's just a girl."

"You can't blame yourself, Lieutenant, event eh Captain's afraid of her. I think it's in her eyes."

T'Pol entered at that exact moment, sending the two officers to rapt attention at their stations. She pretended not to notice ans sat with quiet grace at her science station.

She spoke a moment later, to everyone's surprise. "You are wrong, Ensign, she is employing an effective voice technique. I would command that she stop, but it has been very useful, and I am 'pleased' that she is able to use it so proficiently."

Malcolm and Travis exchanged glances that clearly muttered, _Vulcans_.

x x x

"What do you want?" the Captain shouted, banging on the plexiglass barriers. There was no one to hear him, but he recognized the technology well enough: Ferengi.

x x x

"The warp engines are goin' full, and we should be able to maintain 5.3 for a day or so, providing the modifications hold." Trip reported to the group of officers standing in the Situation Room.

T'Pol nodded, "At that speed, we should reach the Ferengi ship in approximately sixteen hours."

The doors opened unexpectedly, and all the Bridge officers turned their heads.

"Had you forgotten to invite me." T'Mir asked boldly, making her way to a seat at the centre table, "Don't forget that I can be useful."

The room was uncomfortably quiet.

"Well, who are we dealing with, have you identified the vessel?" she prompted.

T'Pol took the initiative to answer. "The signature is Ferengi. We made these scans of the vessel in the 3.6 seconds it was decloaked."

There was a series of visual photos, taken from the bow sensor recorder. They were all very close, an average of 50 metres away.

T'Mir looked at them for a moment. "It looks like a Proctor Class." she told them, "They must be very new, I cam across them at a Station in Kronos Prime.

"The Ferengi are religiously obsessed with profit. They went through a period – I suppose in a few years time – when the favoured mode of acquisition was to kidnap a high-ranking officer or dignitary, and demand the ship or it's contents as ransom.

"Oh." was the general response in the room as the officers nodded in understanding.

"It would be best to be on guard, it was uncommon, but pirate with large fleets could ambush ships without warning."

"They changed course just a half-hour ago." Malcolm brought up, "In this direction, away from their known space." He dragged his finger across the screen, tracing out a path on a map of the quadrant.

"Wait," she stopped him, "I know that system."

"I thought ya lived int eh desert – how'd ya get all the way out here."

"I bartered parts for shuttle upgrades at a station here, around the third planet. It was an unsavoury place, but I'd imagine it's still there."

x x x

"Hey!" the Captain yelled. He'd seen a shadow move across the far corridor, and it looked humanoid. "Hey!" he called again, rising up to his feet.

There was a haunting cackle, as more shadow-shapes appeared, and three Ferengi came up to the holding cell. A deliriously happy, wicked smile spread over the first male's face. "Captain Archer." He let the name hang in the air, making a show of looking around the room, as though all the profit he had coming was already tangible in the air.

"How are you doing, Captain?" the Ferengi sneered, "I'd certainly hate to deliver damaged cargo – much less profit that way. Lucky for us, the Klingons are offering the same price for you, dead or alive."

He cackled again, holding his belly in mirth. Archer saw him nod to one of his flankmen, who reached to a panel in the wall. There was a hissing noise, and coloured smoke began pouring out of the environmental panel above him. Then he collapsed.


	2. Part II

"Commander, I've picked up their trail again." Ensign Mayweather tapped at his console.

"Move to intercept them, Ensign." T'Pol ordered from the Captain's chair.

He studied his readout in confusion. "They're heading back this way."

"Intercept course." she affirmed.

In a few short hours time, Ensign Sato announced, "We're within hailing range."

"Contact them, Ensign." T'Pol nodded.

Hoshi held the receiver to her ear for a minute before signalling T'Pol the line was open.

"This is Commander T'Pol of the Starship Enterprise. You have something that belongs to us."

Briefly, an image opened on the viewscreen of the Ferengi ship's Bridge. A short man with large ears and wickedly pointed teeth replied. "Missing something?" he taunted them.

T'Pol fought not to roll her eyes. "I wish to barter for the return of our Captain."

The Ferengi looked to each of his officers, a decidedly impish grin spreading over his face. "I am Verneck, this is my vessel, Imperium. In return for your Captain, we require 300 kilos of dilithium ore, as well as all the anti-matter on board." He looked around to his crew, "And your weapons. And any valuables." he snickered.

T'Pol's face was blank. "Your demands are unreasonable."

The Ferengi smiled again. "But they will be met if you want to see your Captain again."

She turned to Malcolm and nodded.

Malcolm fiddled with some controls on his console, and looked up. "We've got him. I'm raising shields."

T'Pol looked back to the viewscreen. The Bridge was unchanged, with the exception of a single missing occupant. "I have a better idea. We will return your Captain if you return ours."

The connection was rapidly ended by another scowling Ferengi.

x x x

"This is unreasonable!" Verneck called in captivity, "We won't negotiate with terrorists!"

Trip walked in, standing right up to the glass enclosure. "Well now, maybe we won't either."

The Ferengi stopped his shouting immediately.

"It's simple, really," Trip continued, "one Captain for another, that seems like a fair trade – profitable to you, it seems."

The Ferengi hung his head, "Rule of Acquisition #32: Life before profit."

"Exactly." Trip nodded, "Now, you can make the call and we'll just sort this whole little mess out."

Verneck looked up at him forlornly for a moment, as though weighing his options. He chose the truth. "I would, but we don't have your Captain anymore."

"What!" Trip exploded, "Where is he?"

"We had another buyer." the Ferengi continued, "So much profit, who knew your Captain was worth that much."

Trip seethed.

"I suppose you should return me to my ship, we really don't have any business together after all."

Trip spoke very specifically through clenched teeth, "Where is the Captain?"

"Oh no no, Rule of Acquisition #68: For future business, it is always best to protect the buyer's interests. Although," he smiled shrewdly again, "perhaps, for a price, I could let drop some of that information you need."

"How 'bout I don't cut off your lobes, an' ya give us the information." Trip replied.

The Ferengi paled. "It would be a pleasure doing business with you."

x x x

"We really need to straighten out our relations with the Klingons." Malcolm said, shovelling in another spoon of bangers and mash.

"Ye're tellin' me." Trip nodded, swallowing some of his own dinner, "What's this make now, three, four times the Captain's been kidnapped for the Klingons – I've lost count."

"I hear this station's a rough place." Malcolm said, "T'Mir told me she didn't spend much time there, but the little she did see wasn't pleasant."

"I think I better rethink my decision to leave her with Kov." Trip muttered, "He leaves her in the desert and takes her to dangerous rogue space stations in the middle of Klingon territory."

Malcolm looked up in mid-chew, startled by his friend's entirely unexpected revelation.

"What?" Trip said defensively.

Malcolm shook his head, "I just never thought ..."

"Thought what?" Trip snapped, "I know what I said."

"Okay."

x x x

"I've attempted speaking to the Klingon ambassador." T'Pol announced around the table, "He was not aware the bounty on the Captain's head was still being actively sought. He suggested it might be the work of a rebellious faction."

"All the same." Malcolm leaned back in his chair.

"Agreed." T'Pol nodded, "When we reach the station, our primary goal will be to scan the station to determine if the Captain is still aboard. We will also scan the area for Klingon warp signatures matching those the Ferengi gave us."

"I've been working on updating the bioscanner." Hoshi inputted, "but it's still going to take a while to find a human biosign in a station that big."

"How much time?"

Hoshi rolled her eyes in calculation, "About ten, fifteen minutes."

"I can help ya try an' cut that down." Trip offered.

Hoshi nodded her thanks.

"I've been scanning the area for the Klingon ship, but Travis and I haven't been able to boost the range of the scanning array so far." Malcolm added.

"Let me know if you need any more power for that." Trip suggested again.

"The security systems on the station are not difficult to bypass." T'Mir added, "I believe I could do it again."

"I'll do that, if you don't mind." Malcolm interjected.

T'Mir nodded her resignation, a combination between yes and no shakes of the head. "The station is also well equipped to handle a vessel the size of Enterprise, however, I believe taking a small shuttle craft would be much more logical.

"Agreed." Malcolm said.

T'Mir finished, "We should also keep in mind they may consider us a threat in the case that we do not follow their offered procedures."

Malcolm had a ready answer, "So, we'll just tell them we can't dock Enterprise."

"It is likely they possess scanning technology." T"Pol reasoned, "They will know if we're lying."

"So, we'll blow the docking clamps." Trip said in all seriousness, earning him a world of looks from the other officers.

T'Mir studied the logic briefly. "It would give us a valuable reason for visiting the station, and for docking the shuttlecraft."

x x x

"Ya told me you didn' know how to dock a shuttle." Trip said, "This is yer chance to learn."

"Trip, it is illogical – one cannot be asked to do something wrong if they do not know how to do it correctly."

Trip and T'Mir sat in Shuttlepod one, hovering twenty metres from the docking port

"It makes perfect sense." he argued, "In flight school, I botched the first eight simulations and all but totalled the ports."

She sighed, but sat in front of the piloting controls. With great resignation, she spoke, "How do I proceed."

"Good." Trip said, hovering over her. "First, we need ta get closer – now, roll 180 – try and centre us over the arm."

x x x

Inside, the Bridge crew watched the procedure on the viewscreen from the visual sensors. Almost comically, the ship inched forward and back, forward again, back, and back some more, and forward. Knowing the seriousness of the situation, they all fought not to laugh – the only one successful was T'Pol, who settled for a raised eyebrow.

x x x

Trip laughed. "That's it, just a little more to the... yeah. That looks pretty good."

T'Mir made no indication that she heard him, concentrating intently on the readings in front of her.

"Now, vertical thrusters." Trip said.

They heard the unmistakable sound of the docking clamps locking on and the hiss of the pressure seal.

"Well, I'll be," Trip said, "not bad at all. Give the thrusters a little extra – we'll see if we can't overload the pressure regulators."

There was an alarming pop and the shuttle automatically disengaged.

Trip laughed manically. "Take us over to the other side, T'Mir."

It was the most bizarre mission T'Pol had ever seen – but the crew was celebrating, so she tried not to get too upset at the illogic of destroying their own vessel.

"Try it on yer own this time." Trip cooed, full of confidence.

T'Mir did as asked, but her skill with lining up the shuttle was not so good as it had been before. She fired the vertical thrusters, but there was an unexpected forward jolt as they docked. A deafening crack and scrape could be heard above, and the shuttle broke free once more.

Trip did some nervous scans of the area. His panicked face softened with a resigned smile. He looked to T'Mir, "Yer gonna fix that one."


	3. Part III

"This is Commander T'Pol of the starship Enterprise." she spoke clearly to the officer on the other side of the comm. link. "We are in need of repairs, we request permission to dock."

"We have a bay available to accomodate your ship in section J-3." the pleasent unidentifiable alien offered.

Trip stepped up, readily noting T'Pol's resistation. "We'd actually like to take a shuttle down – our docking bays were damaged in a run in with the Ferengi."

"We have bilateral ports, you may use an alternate bay."

"Well, actually," Trip rubbed his neck bashfully, "they're both a little in a state of disrepair."

The clerk eyed him suspisciously for a moment. "Very well, we can dock your shuttle at section B-29."

They both nodded. "Thank you." T'Pol finished, and cut the connection.

"Phew." Trip exaggerated, letting a bold smile fall on T'Pol before exiting behind Malcolm and Travis.

x x x

The party emerged from the shuttle, dressed in rough clothes designed by the quartermaster to match their dismal surroundings. It was not quite so rough as T'Mir remembered, but rough enough.

Covertly Malcolm attempted to scan the area for threats.

"Ensign Sato should finish her scan within several minutes." T'Mir told them, "I suggest we attempt to find merchants with the necessary parts."

x x x

The call from Enterprise came a short time later: "We've located the Captain." Hoshi reported, "He's three decks below you in section F-9. I'm reading a number of Klingon biosigns in that area, Commander."

"Understood." Trip replied, shutting his communicator.

"I suggest we split up." Malcolm said, "I don't think we'll have much time to buy parts after we get the Captain back."

"Agreed." Trip nodded, "Travis and I can get these parts, you and T'Mir go after the Captain. Keep an open comm-link, we'll join you as soon as we can."

The four nodded, and parted ways.

"This way, Lieutenant." T'Mir led him through the crowd.

"But the main transport is this way." Malcolm countered.

"There's an access junction over here, we'll be less conspicuous."

x x x

"All I need is one coupling magnet with the arm – yer tryin' ta sell me three without." Trip shouted at a mangy dealer. "For way more than they're worth, might I add."

The dealer was not amused.

"Look, I can see ya've got what I want in your back room there, how about we make a deal for it."

The dealer was stiff lipped. "You will take what is offered."

Trip walked away.

"Wouldn'cha know it," he spoke to Travis, "the one guy with just the part we need, and he wont sell it too us."

Travis shook his head, as if to say_ I don't know_. "Maybe we could try elsewhere."

"We've looked everywhere – no one's got one."

"Well, he doesn't know that. We'll tell him we've got another one – that might change his tune, make him more willing if he thinks his profit's at stake."

x x x

T'Mir and Malcolm tiptoed around the darkened corridors of level F. Malcolm's scanner had picked up the Captain's signature and he led her with brief hand signals.

They stopped at a corner and peered around. "There's a large group of Klingon's guarding that door." Malcolm told her, "It stands to reason that's where the Captain is being kept."

T'Mir nodded, "Indeed."

"If I go around and draw them away, do you think you can retrieve him."

"It shouldn't be too difficult."

"Good." Malcolm snuck away in the opposite direction. A short time later, he appeared on the other side of the Klingons.

"Hey, ugly!" he called, firing his pistol into the air, "Too thick to realize prey when you see it, come on."

T'Mir bit back her reaction to Malcolm's overwhelming stupidity, but at least it worked. She expected she'd have to retrieve him later as she attempted to work the lock on the holding cell's door.

x x x

"Listen," Trip said, walking back to the heavy-set merchant, "my buddy's just told me he found the part we're looking for at the other end of this sector, so it looks like we won't be needing your services after all."

The merchant went red in the face. "Who?" he demanded, "Coriolis? Ga'ar Shehek? You can't be sure of their merchandise's quality."

Trip looked at him, thinking he would be easier to play than a harmonica. "Well, my buddy here says they'll do the job, so, sayonara." He took the first few steps back toward Travis but was stopped by the merchant.

"Wait." he said, "I think I might remember having something a while back..."

Trip turned and waited, passing a knowing smile with Travis, as the merchant disappeared into the back room.

He returned very shortly after with the part. "It seems to be in good shape." he told them.

Trip scanned it, "Not that good."

The merchant went red in the face again. "But it is what you're looking for?"

"Oh, yeah, it is, we're just looking at another one, over there." Trip turned to walk away again.

"Wait!" the merchant grumbled, "I can sell it to you for ten of your coupling links – and that's a good deal."

Trip stepped back, eyeing the part closely. "Well," he stuck his tongue around in his cheek, "I guess we could fix 'er up a bit. Eight."

The merchant grumbled again, "Ten."

Trip walked away.

"Wait! Nine."

"A compromise, eh?" Trip rubbed his hand over his chin, "That's alright. Nine couplings for the magnetic coupler and arm. Let me make a call."

x x x

T'Mir heard a satisfying click of the lock and breathed out at last. With a final glance down the now-empty hallway, she pushed open the door.

"Captain?" she called into the dark room.

She heard a groan in response.

"Captain." Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dark, and she found him in the corner.

He was sleeping – she hoped – he looked pretty battered, but his pulse was strong enough. She shook him, and he startled awake, wide eyed trying to escape until he saw who she was.

"T'Mir." he breathed.

"We have to get you out of here, Captain."

"My leg." He tried to roll over, clutching the aforementioned body part with his bound hands, "I think it's broken."

She studied the part for just a minute, then seemed to resolve something in her head. "I'm sorry, Captain." she said, reaching her arms around him before she hauled him to his feet.

He called out in pain.

"I'm sorry." she said again, "There isn't time."

He leaned heavily on her proffered shoulder, wincing as he said, "It's okay."


	4. Part IV

Malcolm ran for his life. "Hey, stupid, nice ridges, a bit small, aren't they?" He didn't know why he kept trying to taunt them – they were clearly mad enough already – but it felt strangely satisfying. He had six Klingon warriors behind him, he had cut it down to five by stunning one with his phase pistol, but five was still enough to keep him on his toes. He fired behind him several times, just glad that the Klingon's didn't have rifles with them.

He was running out of stamina, he knew, they'd been around this portion of the station at least a half-dozen times. He rounded a corner, and ducked into what he hoped was an abandoned storage locker. It was not.

x x x

The Captain and T'Mir made their way slowly but steadily toward the access shaft. Suddenly, she paused, causing the Captain to come back to lucidity.

"What?" he asked, unfortunately loudly.

She winced, she was listening carefully. "Do you hear that?"

"No." he told her loudly again.

"Shhh, Captain. The Klingon's are coming back."

He seemed more awake now. "Malcolm." he surmised.

"I don't know, Captain – come quickly now." She helped him down an adjoining corridor.

"It's under construction." he said, as they passed through a plastic vapour barrier and set of unkempt tools.

She stopped again. "So, it would seem."

They looked down together, an endless dark shaft below where the floor suddenly stopped, leaving openings of re-bar jutting out. She gulped.

x x x

Malcolm found himself suddenly not in the clutches of Klingons, but of Orions – females. He panicked, Klingons would be better than Orions, and turned back to the door. But the alluring green girls encroached upon him.

The one closest to him smiled. "You've come to save us." she spoke sensually.

"Why, yes." the Lieutenant stuttered, and suddenly everything was alright and he was being led farther into the room.

x x x

The Captain found himself hanging by his shackles off a piece of steel rebar. "This is either madness or brilliance." he told T'Mir as she hung beside him.

"Let's pray it's the latter." she told him dryly.

He chuckled at her joke, but the extra air he took in brought dust from the construction site with it. He coughed.

She looked at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

His face tightened and he looked at her as though to apologize but knew better than to make a noise.

She listened intently, and she heard the shuffle of Klingon boots slow and stop only to continue again, faster.

She started wiggling herself up.

"What are you doing?" the Captain whispered.

"It is like the fox, Captain." she told him calmly, "Better to attack than to be attacked."

x x x

"Commander Tucker to Lieutenant Reed."

Malcolm slowly came to his senses about that little annoying chirping in his sleeve pocket. "Excuse me, ladies." he said expertly.

He put on his best hard-hitting officer's voice. "Reed here."

"Malcolm, we're all done up here. How are you doing."

"Hmmm." Malcolm was distracted by a subtle green finger sliding over his cheek, that, and the alluring looks from the finger's owner just inches away from him, "Just great."

"We'll be down there in just a minute – can you hold until then."

"Not a problem." the British officer enunciated. Then he cut the transmission and gave in to the beauty's persistence.

x x x

T'Mir hefted a hammer and a plasma torch in her hands. She stayed behind the plastic drapery, but she knew they were coming.

The first Klingon rounded the corner, and he was met by a well-thrown hammer in the cranial ridges, knocking him unconscious. Those behind him only charged faster, and she only had a brief second to put to action her next plan.

She stomped hard on the fuel valve and quickly pushed forward a convenient tank of liquid hydrogen. In a matter of seconds, the corridor would be filled with the volatile, noxious gas, so she threw the lit torch as soon as the container was set rolling.

The Klingon's only looked up bleakly from the torch to the compressed cylinder as they realized what was about to happen.

The contraption had the desired effect, the corridor rattled with the force of the explosion and T'Mir was thrown to the ground as the heat waves passed over her.

x x x

"What was that?" Travis asked all of a sudden, as the walls around him shook.

"I don' know." Trip said, folding away his handscanner, "But we should go take a look."

The two set off running in the direction of the explosion, leaving, for now, their tracking of Lieutenant Reed.

x x x

T'Mir stood slowly, but readily. She knew the explosion would be more impressive than effective, and that Klingons were a tough breed.

She was not mistaken, so she jumped at the first Klingon she saw that started to rise. He fought back, and she dragged him to the far side of the corridor as she saw others start to stand around her. She had his head firmly between her arms and chest, and she was slowly building up the courage and strength for a final twist of the massive neck.

It was then, to her great relief, that the Klingon died of a partical blast. She looked up to see Trip, his pistol still trained to the Klingon in front of her. "Thanks." she said breathlessly.

x x x

Travis kicked the last of the Klingon's to the ground. "I don't think relations with the Empire are going to improve over this." he muttered.

"I doubt it." Trip said, "We'll probably all have a price on our heads after this."

T'Mir knelt down at the end of the corridor. "How are you doing, Captain?"

"I would really like to get out of here." he said.

"Travis, Trip," she called, "I require your assistance."

Trip peered down and smiled. "Well, Cap'n," he joked, "good to see yer hangin' in there."

"Very funny, Trip, just get me out of here."


	5. Part V

"Where's Malcolm?" Travis asked, steadying the Captain on his shoulder.

T'Mir froze. "I... I believe he may have fallen to the Klingons."

"What?" Trip said in disbelief, "No, no, I just talked to him not ten minutes ago – he told me everything was fine. We were tracking his biosign at the other end of this junction."

T'Mir straightened. "It may be worthwhile to have a look."

"Agreed." Trip nodded to Travis, "You get him back to the shuttle. T'Mir 'nd I will get Malcolm."

x x x

"He's definitely in there." Trip affirmed with his scanner. They were standing outside of what looked like an abandonned storage locker. "I just don't know what else."

"Do you smell that?" T'Mir asked.

"What?"

She sniffed again. "It's giving me a headache."

"I don't smell anythin'."

"It smells like a female lyra – a venomous reptile on Vulcan – when it's in estrous."

Trip looked disgusted as he tried to digest the information. "Ya mean like ...?"

"Pheremones."

"Orions." Trip concluded woefully, "I hate Orions."

x x x

Malcolm was having the time of his life. There were more beautiful females wearing mostly nothing than he could shake a stick at, and all he had to do was detonate one little bomb, one little bomb that would blow a hole through three layers of deliterium into the station's safe – and that wouldn't go off for another few minutes, not until the changing of the guard.

Nothing could make him happier as he gently nibbled a grape out of delicate fingers and lounged back on a sofa. Vaguely, he wondered if the Captain was okay, but one of the pretty ones – he forgot her name – disturbed him.

"Malcolm, darling, you look troubled. Relax, we'll take care of you."

He closed his eyes and did as he was told.

Shortly, he heard the door open but didn't think anything of it until the ladies' attention fell to it instead of him.

"Malcolm!" he heard Trip bark.

"Commander." Malcolm saluted him half-drunkenly with a big smile on his face, "Come in, join me."

Trip scowled. "Come on, we're getting out of here." He went to move forward but was blocked by a congregation of Orions.

The leader put a finger to his chin and ran it down his chest. "You don't have to go," she prompted, "We can make you very comfortable."

He wasted no energy hiding his frustrated look. "Don't even try it." he warned, and pushed her out of the way.

She fell into her counterparts with an exaggerate 'oof', but the others parted way for Trip.

He forcibly removed Malcolm from the situation.

"Commander, I'm fine really. This is a rescue operation, we can't just leave."

"Yes, we can." Trip hauled him to the door.

Suddenly, Malcolm stopped in his tracks. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Commander." He held his phase pistol at Trip, "These ladies have asked for my assistance, and I am not someone who will abandon a damsel in distress."

"Aw, shove it, Mal."

Malcolm resteadied his stance. "I don't want to, but I will shoot you, Trip, if I have to."

Trip became quite concerned that his old friend wasn't kidding around – _damn Orions_.

Unexpectedly, Trip watched as Malcolm's face scrunched and immediately relaxed and he slowly sunk to his knees, his fall controlled by T'Mir's hand on his shoulder.

The shared a look, and Trip sighed and threw his friend over his arm, carrying him out.

They were a short way down the corridor when the explosive detonated and, not for the first time that day, the walls of the station shook.

"What did Malcolm say he helped them with?" Trip asked tenatively.

T'Mir's eyes grew wide with realization. "Run." she said, and they took off.

x x x

"Well, Captain, it seems you'll make a full recovery – just try to keep off that leg for a good month, and there should be no residual damage."

"Thanks, Doc." The Captain went to slide off the biobed in Sickbay.

"Ah ah ah, Captain." Phlox stopped him, bringing a set of crutches from a hidden cupboard. "Use these."

The Captain stared at them for a minute, thinking about refusing an order, but resigned himself to the fact that they probably were a good idea. He took them, "Thanks."

"How are you feeling, Captain."

Archer was shocked to find T'Pol standing quietly a safe distance away. "Not so bad, considering." he said, "I trust you took care of my ship."

"Indeed." she replied dryly, moving directly to ship's business. "While retrieving you, Lieutenant Reed fell into the hands of the Orions and rigged an explosive at their request. Commander Tucker and T'Mir were able to mount a rescue mission. However, in the process, Malcolm pulled a weapon on the Commander. Commander Tucker refused to report him, however Malcolm insisted on filing one of his own."

Archer looked very worried as the story continued to unfold.

"Since this is not his first act of insubordination, I have sentenced him to a total of thirty days in the Brig –."

Archer's mouth fell open in disbelief.

"–, to be completed at his discretion," she paused, "when he has the time."

Archer laughed, "Thank you, T'Pol, that sounds like an appropriate sentence." He stood up. "You know we encountered three species today, all of which will probably have a price on my head. Maybe it's time to retire.

Her face was ever-blank. "That would not be wise, Captain. If you retired, you would no longer have a crew willing to risk life and limb to retrieve you every time you fell into enemy hands."

He chuckled, laying a hand on her shoulder. "No, I guess not."

"Cap'n!"

Archer turned his head to the door. "Trip!"

"Hey, ye're lookin' a lot better." Trip slapped his old friend on the shoulder.

"I feel it too." Archer laughed.

"Ya'll get used to tha crutches in no time – they're real good for reachin' far away things too."

Archer laughed again, and paused, noting the discrete looks Trip kept flashing his Vulcan Science Officer. "Well, I'd better get back up there, see what kind of damage you've done to my ship." He smiled at both of them in turn and hobbled down the corridor.

Trip approached T'Pol. "I guess I've got ta thank ya again."

"I'm not certain what you're referring to, Commander."

"That bond thing we got," He motioned between their two heads, much to her confusion, "really came in handy with the Orions agains."

"I see." she nodded curtly, and made to leave.

"I was thinkin'," Trip stopped her, "maybe when this thing with the Romulan's is done with, I could take ya out to dinner, show my appreciation."

T'Pol raised a single eyebrow. "Maybe." she said dryly, and continued out the doors.


End file.
